


all grown up and kind

by hellodeer



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-02
Updated: 2014-11-02
Packaged: 2018-02-23 20:57:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,253
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2555429
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hellodeer/pseuds/hellodeer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>four people aomine apologizes to</p>
            </blockquote>





	all grown up and kind

1\. Satsuki

She is carrying twenty books, her back curving under the weight of them, so Aomine stops her in the middle of the school hallway.

“Yo, Satsuki,” he says, taking half of the books from her arms. “Where to?”

“Staff room,” she says. “Thank you, Dai-chan.”

“Yamazaki-sensei made you carry all of these by yourself?” he asks through his teeth. “What an asshole.”

“It’s no problem now,” Satsuki smiles at him. “You’re helping.”

He stays quiet after that, just listening to her hum whatever under her breath, and they fall into step beside one another, comfortable and familiar. When they’re a few rooms away from their destination, Aomine sighs.

“Say, Satsuki,” he says, and stops walking. She stops too, tilts her head in question. “We’ve known each other forever, yeah? You’ve always been with me. You’ve always stuck with me, even when I was the biggest asshole to you. To everyone,” he clears his throat. Satsuki’s eyes are huge, her mouth hanging open. “What I mean is, thank you. And I’m sorry. You’re great, you know that? You deserve better than me.”

“No,” she says, quick and firm.

“Yes,” Aomine frowns at her. “Yes, you do. So I’m gonna. Try. To be better.”

Satsuki says nothing. She just stares at him, unblinking, until she starts to cry.

“Satsuki?” Aomine asks, looking from side to side. The hallway is empty, so he whispers _fuck_ , at a loss of what to do. “Please don’t cry.”

Satsuki keeps crying, huge sobs wrecking her whole body. Aomine puts the book he’s carrying on the floor, then takes Satsuki’s books and puts them down, too. Satsuki uses her free hands to cover her face, and Aomine uses one arm to hug her shoulders, the other to pat her back.

He rests his chin on the top of her head. “I love you, you know,” he says, which only makes Satsuki cry more.

She cries for five straight minutes, saying _Dai-chan, Dai-chan_ into his chest.

 

2\. Wakamatsu

“Senpai!” Ryou yells, raising his hand and waving to Wakamatsu, who smiles and jogs across the gym until he is in front of them.

“Yo, Sakurai,” he says, ruffling Ryou’s hair. Aomine smirks. “Yo, Aomine,” Wakamatsu nods in greeting, and Aomine does the same.

The college gym is no bigger than theirs, and anyway Aomine has been playing in huge, tall courts since the age of twelve, so it’s almost like home. Wakamatsu’s team is good, but Touou is better, and they win.

“That was a good game,” Wakamatsu says, after, when they’re sitting on the floor panting, empty water bottles at their feet. “You played well, vice-captain,” he smirks towards Aomine, who tsks and rubs the back of his neck.

“Thanks for inviting us,” Aomine says, looking somewhere between Wakamatsu and Ryou. “I know I was a pain in the ass when I first joined the team, and when you were captain you had to put up with a lot of my crap too, but you still invited us to play today. That was cool.”

Wakamatsu and Ryou blink at him several times, Wakamatsu holding a water bottle halfway to his lips.

“Are you… apologizing?” he asks, after a pause that stretches for what feels like thirty years.

“Geez,” Aomine says, scratching his cheek with a blunt nail. “Yeah. Sorry for being an ass for two years.”

Wakamatsu continues to just stare at him. Ryou has tears in his eyes.

“Come on, Ryou,” Aomine groans. “Don’t be like Satsuki, don’t cry.”

“You made Momoi cry?” Wakamatsu asks, then he holds Aomine by the collar of his jersey, the vein above his left eyebrow twitching.

“Wakamatsu-senpai,” Ryou says, closing his hand around one of Wakamatsu’s wrists. They seem deaf to Aomine’s protests of _Let me go!_ and _I didn’t do anything!_ “He apologized to her too. That’s why she cried.”

“Oh,” Wakamatsu says, releasing his hold of Aomine’s jersey. Then he grins, big and friendly, and punches Aomine’s shoulder. “You’re alright, Aomine.”

“Yeah,” Aomine snorts, smiles back. “I am now.”

 

3\. Kise

The summer moon finds Kise and Aomine in the park, panting in front of each other, until Aomine dribbles past Kise and shoots the ball, which goes straight through the basket.

“Damn!” Kise says, punching his knees. “One more time!”

“Nah,” Aomine says, taking the ball and his bag from the floor. “It’s already eight-thirty, my mom’s called me twice. Gotta go home.”

Kise pouts. “I’ll beat you next time!”

“Sure,” Aomine says, not a trace of the old sarcasm and mockery in his voice, the smile spreading on his lips genuine.

They walk out of the park and into the busy city streets, Kise chatting away about his team and how difficult being captain is, how he suddenly has a lot more respect for Kasamatsu-senpai, and about how he’s thinking of taking a break from modeling to focus more on basketball.

“That’s good,” Aomine says, blinking at him in surprise. “Just don’t overdo it.”

Kise eyes him funny in response. “I know, Aominecchi.”

“No, seriously,” Aomine insists. “It’s important to rest and eat well. Just practicing hard all the time will do you no good.”

“I know,” Kise says again, still looking at him like Aomine is crazy.

“Jesus, don’t look at me like that,” he says, embarrassed. “I worry about you, you know.”

Kise’s expression melts, his mouth opening into the brightest smile Aomine has ever seen, capable of outshining the sun, if Kise wanted to.

“Thanks, Aominecchi. I can take care of myself.”

“I know you can,” Aomine frowns. Kise continues to grin at him though, so he sighs, puts an arm around Kise’s shoulders. “You’re a great player, Kise, as good as me. Who knows, someday you might even be better.”

Kise must hear the truth in Aomine’s words, must know he means it, because he looks at Aomine like he is the moon and stars, like Aomine saying he recognizes Kise was everything he ever wanted.

For a second Aomine is worried Kise will start crying too, but Kise doesn’t. He just smiles wider, happier, and links his arm around Aomine’s waist.

 

4\. Tetsu

Aomine is hanging upside down from Tetsu’s bed, his eyes closed, when Tetsu comes in the room and flicks him on the forehead.

“Oi, Tetsu,” he complains, making an exaggerated motion of rubbing the spot where Tetsu hit him.

“If too much blood goes to your brain, you can die in five minutes,” Tetsu deadpans, stepping over Aomine’s legs to sit with his back against the wall, an open book in his lap.

“Is that true?” Aomine asks, sitting up too quickly and getting dizzy.

“We’ll see.”

“Oi, Tetsu!” Aomine protests again, but the corner of Tetsu’s lips are lifted just enough for someone like Aomine, who has had years of experience in reading Tetsu, to know he is smiling.

Five minutes pass and Aomine doesn’t die, so he snuggles close to Tetsu, buries his nose in the soft cotton of Tetsu’s pajama pants. Tetsu, eyes never leaving his book, starts to card his fingers through Aomine’s hair.

“I was an asshole in Teikou, wasn’t I,” he says into Tetsu’s hip. “And during that first Inter High and Winter Cup. I hurt you a lot. I’m sorry.”

Tetsu is quiet for a moment.

“I hurt you, too. We were fifteen. That’s in the past now.”

Aomine takes Tetsu’s hand from his hair, kisses one, two, three, four, five knuckles.

“Yeah,” he says, his insides soft and warm and home. “Yeah.”


End file.
